


Blood and Soul

by Lakritzwolf



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Angst, Blood, Drama, Gore, M/M, Romance, Vampire Anders, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4762196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakritzwolf/pseuds/Lakritzwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitchell turns Anders. They can’t really deal with it all and death is the least of their problems. No happy ending, I’m afraid.</p><p>This whole thing started out as a series of prompts for the <a href="http://gatheringfiki.tumblr.com/post/127826595685/summer-fandom-raffle-exchange-prompts-masterlist">Summer Raffle Fandom Exchange</a>  on tumblr<br/>and now turned into a story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who wants to live forever?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FiliKiliThorinForever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiliKiliThorinForever/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Who wants to live forever?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Jtpf8N5IDE)

_There's no time for us,_   
_There's no place for us,_   
_What is this thing that builds our dreams, yet slips away from us._

Both Anders and Mitchell had known about the danger, and both had skilfully ignored it. And as time had passed, they had believed themselves to be safe. It was an illusion, of course, but they had both held on to it until the hammer finally fell.

They had been out clubbing the whole night. Had both flirted with girls and flirted with guys, wilfully driving each other mad with jealousy. Had both been half-hard the whole night and given each other smouldering looks.

It was three in the morning when they almost staggered out of the last club and after only a few steps, Mitchell grabbed Anders by the front of his shirt and dragged him into a small side alley where he pressed him against the wall.

When they were like this, Anders didn’t resist him, and was only turned on more by the vampire’s strength and ferocity.

“Going to devour me, Mitch?” Anders asked, voice dark and smoky.  
“Don’t tempt me,” Mitchell snarled back and let his eyes turn black, fangs gleaming in the dim light cast by the street lamp around the corner. “Don’t tempt me, Anders.”

Anders closed his eyes as he felt the razor-sharp fangs graze the sensitive skin in the crook of his neck. It was a game; their personal game of power. Anders would occasionally let Mitchell have his way, surrendering to the greater strength and speed of the other man, and Mitchell sometimes let Anders boss him around with his golden voice. They both wilfully submitted to the other, and on those nights, sex was even more feral and hungry than usually. 

Mitchell was rubbing his groin against Anders’s as he pressed him against the wall and his tongue licked at the tiny little scrape his fangs had left in Anders’s skin. “My delicious little god,” he whispered hoarsely.  
Anders was just about to make a sassy reply when a voice coming from the mouth of the alley made them both jump away from each other and the wall. 

Three figures, outlined by the light of the street lamp at their back, were slowly entering the alley, and Mitchell positioned himself slowly in front of Anders. He didn’t need to see them any clearer to know they were vampires, too.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to play with your food?” One of them asked.  
“Fuck off,” Mitchell spat. “This one is mine.”  
“Oh, greedy, are we.” The second one said. “He’s a whole, healthy male. There’s enough for everyone.”  
“Sharing is caring,” the third one added.   
“I said fuck off!” Mitchell flashed his fangs. “This one is mine!”  
“Indeed he is.” The first one stepped closer and became more visible. His features were rather nondescript, but he was broad and heavily muscled. “Your little sex toy. He practically reeks of you and your cum, Mitchell.”

Mitchell involuntarily took a step back, closer to Anders.

“Yes, we know who you are.” The bulky vampire took another step forward. “And we have a message for you from a mutual friend.”  
Mitchell straightened up and squared his shoulders. “I don’t have any friends.”  
“No,” laughed the other. “You’re right. Enemies and fuck toys, but no friends. But this one, you know, he wants to be your friend.”  
“He can go fuck himself.”  
“Herrick is not going to like that answer, Mitch.”

“Herrick can go fuck himself until he turns blue,” Mitchell spat. “Tell him I came here to get rid of him and I have no intention to go back to be his pet!”  
“Oh, he knows that well. In fact, he told me what he’d expect you to say, and he got pretty close. But he also told me not to harm you. Not physically, at least.”  
“What do you want?”  
“Me? Nothing.” The other vampire cracked his knuckles. “I’m only getting paid for the job. Herrick wants you, however, and he said that even if he can’t have you, he’s not going to share you.”

Behind him, Mitchell could feel Anders shrink back.

“You have to get past me to get at him,” Mitchell growled.  
“Sure, we will have to. And we will.”

As one, the three other vampires attacked, and even as Mitchell yelled at Anders to run, he knew it was futile. The alley was a dead end, and the only exit was blocked by three vampires. 

Mitchell didn’t stand a chance. He fought like mad, but the burly vampire and his companion who was equally heavily built had overpowered him far too quickly and easily, and proceeded to beat seven different kinds of crap out of him while Mitchell was being forced to watch as the third vampire pressed Anders to the ground with a feral grin. He was choking him, and Anders face was already beginning to turn blue.

“Herrick says to break all your toys,” the leader of the three vampires said as Mitchell was hanging limply between the two, unable to move a limb. “And he says not to stop until you give up and come back to him.  
“Please don’t do this...” Mitchell slurred, hardly able to speak with his split and swollen lips. “God, Anders... please let him go...”  
“Well...” The vampires let go of him and Mitchell slumped gracelessly and painfully to the ground. “It’s not personal, you see. But we have a job to do.”

The third vampire finally let go of Anders who immediately started to cough and wheeze, desperate to get some air into his lungs. The one who had been choking him now produced something from his coat that Mitchell could instantly identify despite the dim light.

“No!” He tried to get onto his feet and failed utterly. “Fuck, no! He’s no vampire, you idiots!”  
“We know.” He was holding the stake to Anders’s chest. “Sadly we’re not supposed to feed from him, seems a shame to waste all that blood. But then...” He looked up and grinned. “If you want to heal, and if you want to get your revenge... just help yourself.”

With these words, he drove the stake into Anders’s chest. 

_There's no chance for us,_   
_It's all decided for us,_   
_This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us._

“NO!” Mitchell could see Anders tried to scream, but whatever sound it had been it was instantly chocked off by a horrible gurgling sound. “No, Anders! No!”

The three vampires just walked past as if nothing had happened, leaving Mitchell to crawl to Anders’s side. He was thrashing out, his hands desperately scraping on the tarmac surface while the blood welled up his chest and bubbled out of his mouth as he tried to speak. His eyes were so wide they were almost completely white.

“Shit...” Mitchell tried to gather him up as carefully as possible, tears streaming down his face. “Shit, Anders... no...”  
Being more upright now that he was supported by Mitchell’s arms, Anders could get enough air into his damaged lungs to speak again. He spat out a gush of blood as he spoke.  
“Mitch...” It was a horrible sound, hardly recognisable as a human voice.  
“Anders...” Mitchell ran a hand through Anders’s blood soaked hair. “Shit... god no... please no...”  
“Mitch...” Anders desperately fought for air and spat more blood. “Hurts...”  
“I know,” Mitchell sobbed. “God, I know...”

“I don’t want to die...” The panicked white eyes met Mitchell’s. “Don’t want to die, Mitch...” The blood on his lips was frothing, bubbles collecting in the corners of his mouth.  
“Babe...” Mitchell traced Anders’s face with his fingers. “I’m so sorry...”  
“Don’t want to die,” Anders rasped, his eyes never leaving Mitchell’s. Tears were now breaking free from his panicked eyes. “I’m so fucking... fucking scared... Mitch... don’t want to die... I’m so scared...”

“God, Anders, I’m so sorry...” Mitchell’s voice was only a suffocated whisper. “I’m so sorry...”  
“Save me...” Anders gurgled and spat more blood. The flow had already abated, and what little breath there was left in him was fast and shallow. He was bleeding to death and drowning in his own blood. “Help me, Mitch...”  
“No...” Mitchell replied in a dead and toneless whisper. “I can’t... Anders I can’t do that to you...”  
“Mitch...” Anders’s eyes widened even more. “Don’t lemme die, p...please... don’t...”  
“Anders!” Mitchell pressed his forehead against Anders’s. “Don’t make me do it! There’s things worse than death!”  
“John...” Another gush of blood, another painful breath. “John, please... so scared...”

Anders’s legs stopped thrashing, his hand, desperately holding on to Mitchell’s arm, lost its grip and the arm slid down.

“...no...”Those wide, terrified eyes bored into Mitchell’s... and began slowly to cloud over. “Anders, no!” 

Mitchell threw his head back with a scream of fury and anguish and pain, and then he sunk his fangs into his wrist with a choked sob. Pressing his wrist against Anders’s mouth he felt the drops reach Anders’s tongue, and with another sob, he tore the stake out of Anders’s ruined chest and collapsed next to Anders’s body that had stopped twitching. He curled up and cried like a child, his pain and grief and desperation washing over him, drowning him, and his whole body was wracked by violent sobs. 

_But touch my tears with your lips,_   
_Touch my world with your fingertips,_   
_And we can have forever,_   
_And we can love forever,_   
_Forever is our today_

Mitchell had no idea how long he had been lying there, but at one point, he found himself sitting with his back to the wall at the entrance of the alley, smoking and dragging so hard at the cigarette that he could feel the glow on his face. He closed his eyes with a sob when he heard the steps.

“Mitch?”  
He couldn’t look at him. “I’m so sorry...”  
“I’m not.”

Mitchell forced himself to look up. His shirt was torn and completely soaked with blood, as were his trousers, everything was smeared in blood and his hair was matted with drying blood as well. But the garish, horrible hole in his chest was gone. Mitchell slowly got up, fresh tears welling up in his eyes as Anders’s eyes flashed black for a second.

“I’m so hungry, John...” He whispered.  
“I know, babe,” Mitchell said, and a violent shudder ran through his body. “I know.”

_Who wants to live forever,_   
_Who dares to love forever,_   
_When love must die._


	2. Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Always](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9BMwcO6_hyA)

_This Romeo is bleeding_   
_But you can't see his blood_   
_It's nothing but some feelings_   
_That this old dog kicked up_

_It's been raining since you left me_   
_Now I'm drowning in the flood_   
_You see I've always been a fighter_   
_But without you I give up_

Mitchell had been shedding tears the whole time; he had somehow managed to get Anders home without anyone noticing his blood-soaked clothing, had gotten him out of said blood-soaked clothes – and god, the smell of that blood, it had wreaked havoc with his mind, arousing him and making him sick at the same time. His tears had burned his eyes, because the sweet, intoxicating taste of Anders’s blood was only a memory now. He had gotten Anders into the shower and now he was listening to the water while he stuffed the soiled clothes into a bin bag. 

Once done, he leaned against the wall and let himself slide down, closing his eyes when he had reached the ground. He hadn’t noticed the shower had stopped.

“Mitch?”  
Mitchell opened his eyes, and there was Anders, in all his naked beauty, smiling down at him as if nothing had happened that night. And yet, nothing would ever be the same. The tears were back.  
“Hey.” Anders slowly knelt down beside him. “John...”  
“I’m sorry,” Mitchell croaked, his voice thick with tears. “I shouldn’t have done that to you...”  
Anders rested both hands on his shoulders. “I wanted you to.”  
Mitchell shook his head. “I shouldn’t have done it. I condemned you. I cursed you.”  
“Yes, to be with you for the rest of eternity,” Anders replied with a flick of his head. “Mitch, come on, stop the guilt trip, I...”

Mitchell jumped to his feet and away from him. “I have killed you!” He screamed. “I love you, and I have dragged you into the most evil and dreadful existence possible! One that ends in your annihilation! I have killed you a hundred times over!”  
Anders looked at him with an unmoving face and slowly got up as well. “Okay, I’m sorry for being so flippant about this. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best of ideas. But honestly, Mitch... I was afraid.” His blue eyes widened slightly. “I was so fucking scared, I didn’t want to croak it. Not like that. Not ever. Do you know how many times I had to hide in the bathroom at night during the last year because I had a panic attack, about me being old and grey and wrinkled while you sit next to me with your eternal beauty, giving me disgusted looks?”

Mitchell stared at him with his mouth agape.

_Now I can't sing a love song_   
_Like the way it's meant to be_   
_Well, I guess I'm not that good anymore_   
_But, baby, that's just me_

_And I will love you, baby, always_   
_And I'll be there forever and a day, always_   
_I'll be there 'til the stars don't shine_   
_'Til the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme_   
_And I know when I die,_   
_You'll be on my mind_   
_And I'll love you always_

“Did you never think of that?” Anders took a small step forward. “I am a coward, Mitch, you know that. But there’s only a choice few things that terrify me. And growing old and withering away was one of them.” He reached out and cautiously touched Mitchell’s cheek. “Especially the thought of doing so while you were still here. Feeling obliged to stay with me. I would have wanted to grow old with you, Mitch.” His thumb caressed his cheekbone, still wet with tears. “But now I can stay young with you. I like that better.”  
“You have no idea,” Mitchell said in a dead whisper. “You have no fucking idea what this means.”  
“No.” Anders smiled a tiny little smile. “But you can show me, yes? I’m sure we’ll figure this out somehow.”  
“I did not want to turn you into a monster.”  
“I don’t feel like a monster, to be honest.” Anders took another step forward. “And you were never a monster to me. You haven’t killed anyone in over a year now, have you?”  
“It’s because I could feed off you and never had to go really hungry,” Mitchell replied. “We can’t feed from each other.”

Anders’s eyes flashed black, and Mitchell instinctively responded in kind. After a few moments, they both blinked and their eyes turned back to normal.

_Now your pictures that you left behind_   
_Are just memories of a different life_   
_Some that made us laugh, some that made us cry_   
_One that made you have to say goodbye_   
_What I'd give to run my fingers through your hair_   
_To touch your lips, to hold you near_   
_When you say your prayers, try to understand_   
_I've made mistakes, I'm just a man_

“Please, you have to show me the ropes,” Anders said softly. “I’m sure we can figure this out somehow.”  
“And what about your brothers?”  
Anders huffed. “You mean those bastards that never give a shit for me unless they remember I can be a useful tool? They can go fuck themselves.”  
“Yeah well...” Mitchell shrugged. “I get that. They’re still your family, though.”  
“I think family means a very different thing for you than it does for me.” Anders closed in on Mitchell. “I do care about them, don’t get me wrong. But they don’t care about me, and I am not going to miss them very much. You, on the other hand...” He rested his palm against Mitchell’s chest. “You mean everything to me. I don’t care what my brothers would have to say about this. I only care for you and what you feel, and I’m sorry that you hurt. I don’t want you to hurt.”

Mitchell shrugged and lowered his head. “I turned you into a monster,” he whispered.  
“No, you didn’t.” Anders replied. “You could keep it in check. I can do that, too. I know I can. With you. There’s two of us, Mitch. There’s two of us now.”  
At that, Mitchell looked up again. “You still don’t understand,” he rasped. “This is not a bad habit like smoking that you can just kick.”  
“I know. But we can do this.” He took both of Mitchell’s hands. “Together.”

Anders shook his head in irritation as his eyes flashed black again.

“There,” Mitchell said, his voice like lead. “It’s taking over.”  
“I can feel that.” Anders closed his eyes. “I’m hungry, right?”  
“Yes. You need blood.”  
Anders opened his eyes again when he felt Mitchell move, watching intently as he rolled up his left sleeve. “I cannot do this often,” Mitchell said. “And it won’t really help; it just takes the edge off.”

Their eyes met. Mitchell held out his arm to Anders, wrist up. Anders eyes flashed black and this time, they stayed black. He took the offered wrist and lowered his head, and Mitchell felt a shiver creep down his spine that had nothing to do with the horror of having turned the man he loved. Then he heard Anders hiss and felt the fangs pierce his skin. A moan forced itself past his lips that he had no means to suppress. 

The sensation was slowly dissolving his mental strength and he felt himself go feral at the sensations of Anders’s lips on his skin with his tongue sweeping up stray drops of his blood. He dug the heel of his other hand into his groin, desperately wishing he was naked so he could just stroke himself off to that sensation. 

“Anders,” he rasped. “Anders, stop.”  
A tremor ran through Anders’s body, but he stopped and lifted his head. His eyes were still black, his fangs were still out and there was a tiny trickle of blood in the corner of his mouth. When he straightened up Mitchell could see that Anders was as hard as he himself was. 

_When he holds you close, when he pulls you near_   
_When he says the words you've been needing to hear_   
_I'll wish I was him 'cause those words are mine_   
_To say to you 'til the end of time_

Lips crashed together and hands groped, and with both of them working on Mitchell’s wardrobe they had quickly divested Mitchell of his clothing. They pushed and pulled each other to the bedroom and collapsed gracelessly onto the bed, kissing, biting and licking every inch of each other’s skin while panting and growling like animals. Joining their hands and closing them around their cocks, rubbing them against each other, mindlessly rutting, biting, licking and growling until they both came with a desperate groan, Mitchell first and Anders moments after.

When Anders became aware of his surroundings again, he had a baffled look around. Mitchell was already sitting on the edge of the bed, head in hands.

“John?”  
Mitchell lifted his head and looked at him. He had blood smeared across his face.  
“Is it... Will it always be like this?” Anders gestured at Mitchell, himself, and at the bloodstained bedclothes.  
“I guess so,” Mitchell replied. “Most of the time.”  
“Fuck.” Anders ran a hand through his hair. “I need to buy more bed sheets.”  
Mitchell dropped his head again with an incredulous little chuckle.  
“What?”  
“Nothing.” Mitchell looked up at him. “Your whole life as just been shattered and you worry about the sheets.”  
Anders shrugged. “Just being practical.”

Before Mitchell could reply anything, Anders’s phone rang. It turned out to be Mike, and he sounded a little angry, but more worried. And he called a thing. At his bar.

“He did what?” Mitchell pulled his shirt over his head.  
“He called a thing. In his bar.” Anders smoothed down his favourite green shirt. “Fuck if I know why.”

* * *

When Anders and Mitchell entered Mike’s bar, everyone else was already there. And they were all looking very worried.

“Anders,” Mike began hesitantly. “What happened last night?”  
Anders lifted his eyebrows. “What the fuck do you mean?”  
“I don’t know.” Mike’s eyes darted towards Olaf who was looking a little worse for wear. He gave Anders a look that the latter could not identify.

“Olaf didn’t make much sense, he talked like in a trance. Like back when Axl became Odin. Then he said something about a disturbance, a disruption, and then something about blood and death and...”  
“The god who is dead and will never die,” Ty cut in. “That’s what he said. But we were all here last night. And apart form that...” 

He pushed a paper across the table and Anders and Mitchell looked at the headline. Apparently, they had not been the only ones having been attacked by vampires the night before. Not that the article said something about those, but the way the injuries were described left no room for doubt.

“What happened?” Mike asked again.   
“Do you actually care?”  
Mike blinked.  
“Would you even care?” Anders asked mildly. “I always had the impression I wasn’t really high on the popularity list.”  
“Anders...”  
“What happened?” Ty asked as well. “Cause if nothing had you wouldn’t be talking like that!”

Mitchell and Anders exchanged a look, then they both shrugged.

_If you told me to cry for you_   
_I could_   
_If you told me to die for you_   
_I would_   
_Take a look at my face_   
_There's no price I won't pay_   
_To say these words to you_

“We were attacked by three vampires.” Anders rolled his shoulders. “I don’t know if they are responsible for those murders, but my guess is that they were.”  
“And...” Ty pressed his lips together.  
“They...” Anders looked at Mitchell. “They wanted to get at Mitchell.”

“They didn’t want to kill me,” Mitchell went on. “They’d been hired by Herrick, to hurt me, as they said. But I was not to be harmed. They had orders to destroy...”  
“His fucktoy, that’s what they called me.” Anders gave Mitchell a crooked smile.  
“Which means...” Ty swallowed hard. “They... what did they do to you?”

“They killed me,” Anders answered hesitantly, after a long pause.

There was a deadly silence in the air after that last statement.

“So... how come...” Axl slowly stood up. “How come you’re here talking to us?”  
“That is...” Anders rubbed the back of his neck. “See... I didn’t want to die. And believe me, they made sure I had enough time to think about it.”  
“What did they do to you?” Ty almost yelled. “Fucking Christ, Anders what did they do?”  
“They fucking staked me, is what they did!” Anders yelled back, shuddering at the memory. “And it fucking hurt so much I have no words to describe it! And then...” He faltered and closed his eyes with a shudder. Mitchell put his arms around him and that calmed him down enough he could continue. “I was terrified. I hurt like mad. I begged Mitch to not let me die.”

“Good god,” Olaf whispered hoarsely and stood up. “Anders, what have you done?”  
“What has he done?” Axl asked, sounding as confused and afraid as a child.  
“He let Mitchell turn him.”  
“He what?” Ty almost jumped around to stare at Olaf. “He did what?!”

All eyes now rested on Anders, and he unconsciously moved a little closer to Mitchell. “I didn’t want to die,” he whispered. “Don’t you understand?”  
“No,” Ty said, voice trembling. “I... he... he turned you?”  
“What does that even mean?” Axl ran both hands through his hair.

Anders took a deep breath, and his eyes flashed black for a second. 

In the silence that followed, even someone without the senses of a vampire might have been able to hear the heartbeats of those present. 

“The god who is dead and will never die,” Olaf whispered with a sad shake of his head. 

“Anders?” Axl’s voice was trembling. Mike and Ty seemed turned into stone. “Anders, what...” Then his eyes came to rest on Mitchell. “What have you done to my brother?” His voice rose and he was almost screaming. “What the fuck have you done to my brother you fucking monster!”

With that, Axl went at Mitchell who darted out of his way. But before anyone could do anything, Anders had Axl by his throat and pressed him against the bar. He would have never been able to hold him down like that if it hadn’t been for his vampire strength.

_Well, there ain't no luck_   
_In these loaded dice_   
_But, baby, if you give me just one more try_   
_We can pack up our old dreams and our old lives_   
_We'll find a place where the sun still shines_

“What he did?” Anders stared into Axl’s eyes. “He did what I begged him to. I was dying. I was in agony. I was terrified. I had a fucking stake in my chest and I was bleeding to death and drowning in my own blood! I begged him to do it! And if you ever dare to touch him again...” His eyes went black and stayed black this time. “You’re my brother, Axl, and I’d rather not hurt you. But I swear if you touch Mitchell, I will.”  
Axl shrunk back, his face white. He was visibly terrified of his brother now.

Anders let go of his youngest brother and took a deep breath. His eyes were back to normal, and they were full of sadness.

“I didn’t expect you to understand.” Anders took a step back. “I’m not really happy about this, and neither is Mitch. But it’s the best I got. I still think it’s better than the alternative.”

“Get out of my bar,” Mike said calmly. 

Anders didn’t waste any time in trying to talk to Mike any longer. He and Mitchell left the bar without looking back.

They didn’t hear Axl collapse into a heap and going violently to pieces.

_And I will love you, baby, always_   
_And I'll be there forever and a day, always_   
_I'll be there 'til the stars don't shine_   
_'Til the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme_   
_And I know when I die,_   
_You'll be on my mind_   
_And I'll love you, always_


	3. Losing my religion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Losing my religion](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xwtdhWltSIg&list=RDloWXMtjUZWM&index=26) by R.E.M.

_Oh life, it's bigger_   
_It's bigger than you_   
_And you are not me_   
_The lengths that I will go to_   
_The distance in your eyes_   
_Oh no, I've said too much_   
_I set it up_

They had reached Albert Park, and Mitchell watched Anders stare silently at the fountain, hands in his pockets. His heart hurt, his whole being hurt; he knew what Anders was going through right now and he didn’t hold back his tears. 

Anders stood silently, motionlessly, his silhouette outlined by dim lamps and a sliver of moon. 

It was when Mitchell heard the attempt at stealthily shedding tears that he unfroze. Anders didn’t move, but neither did he resist when Mitchell draped both arms around him.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” he whispered.  
Anders shrugged, still staring straight ahead.  
Mitchell buried his face in Anders’s hair. “I’m so sorry. I should never have done it.”  
“I wanted you too.” It was a dull, lifeless whisper.  
“Still.” Mitchell “I knew what would happen. I shouldn’t have done this to you.”  
“I didn’t want to die.”  
“I know.” 

They stood in silence for a while.

“What happens now?” Anders tried so sound calm, but Mitchell knew him well enough to hear the little tremor in his voice.  
“You will need to feed,” Mitchell said, his own voice full of sorrow, regret, and pain. “You’ve just been turned, you can’t put it off any longer.”  
“And if I don’t?”  
“Then you’ll go feral. You lose control and...”  
“And?”  
Mitchell swallowed hard. “Sometimes, those who lose control during their first feed don’t come back.”

Anders didn’t have to ask. Mitchell had told him about the feral ones.

“I guess there’s no use in postponing this further.”  
“There’s something else you have to know.”  
Anders tensed, and Mitchell closed his arms righter around him.  
“It’s your first feed, so you need... you need a lot. You can feel it, Anders. I know that hunger. I know it all too well. But a few sips just won’t cut it.  
“So this is it, then.” Anders relaxed again. Or maybe he just resigned to his fate with much less resistance than Mitchell. “I will have to kill someone.”  
“I’m afraid so, babe.”  
“Is there no way around the killing part?”  
“I don’t think so. Not the first time.  
“But if I... I mean, I could stop and move to someone else?”

“No.” Mitchell finally dropped his arm and took a step back to look at Anders. “There’s no stopping it the first time. And sometimes, not afterwards either. Sometimes, there’s just no stopping it.”

He could see and hear Anders swallow hard. Anders may have accepted his fate, or tried to at least, as opposed to Mitchell who had fought it as much has he had been able to, but he was no cruel, heartless man. He did not want to kill, but seemed to be able to accept the necessity.

“What do we do then?” Anders was still staring at the fountain. “Where do we go?”  
“I don’t know. You probably know the shady parts of Auckland better than I do. Or the parts where you find people that won’t be as easily missed.”  
Anders nodded slowly. “I know places with cheap whores and hustlers, junkies and dealers.”  
“You have to be careful. You don’t want to feed from someone who’s on drugs.”  
“Is there a way to tell? Vampire senses?”  
“You’ll smell it, yes.”

_That's me in the corner_   
_That's me in the spotlight_   
_Losing my religion_   
_Trying to keep up with you_   
_And I don't know if I can do it_   
_Oh no, I've said too much_   
_I haven't said enough_

After another moment of silence, Anders finally turned around and walked away from the fountain. Mitchell followed him, fully aware that Anders hadn’t looked at him for a single second after they had left Mike’s bar. His tears were back, and he let them out now because he knew he needed to keep himself together later, when he had to take care of Anders after he had made his first kill.

They had walked for maybe an hour, and Mitchell noticed that the bars they were passing had dirty windows and walls where crumbling plaster was breaking ancient graffiti apart. More than once a woman who was past her prime had approached them, their excessive make-up destroying what might have remained of their beauty. Anders and Mitchell had walked past them without looking up. 

“One of the whores would be easiest,” Mitchell said after a while. “We could just buy one and...”  
“I know.” Anders still stared straight ahead. “I hate their ugly visages.”  
“It’s not their face we’re after.”  
“I know,” Anders snarled, and Mitchell did not have to see his face to know that he had shifted.

In the end, Anders approached one of the whores that looked more than a down-and-out than anything else. He didn’t haggle about the price for a blowjob, and the fact that she didn’t even have a better place to take him but behind some overfilled wheelie bins in a small, dark side alley told Mitchell enough about her desperate state. Maybe Anders had made the right choice. Maybe he was really doing her a favour.

Mitchell positioned himself next to the bins to keep an eye out and behind him, he heard the whore ask Anders for a smoke. A quick look over his shoulder, and Mitchell saw that Anders was giving her a light as well. She puffed a cloud of smoke.

“Thanks for the patience,” she said, her voice used and rough from years of smoking, booze and probably a lot more.  
“I’m not in a hurry,” Anders said.

After a few drags, the whore flipped the cigarette away and was about to kneel when Anders reached out and took her chin in his hand. 

“I’m not here to have you blow me, you know.”  
She didn’t even blink. “You going to kill me, you pervert?” Her voice was cold and devoid of any feeling.  
“Yes.” And that was not the voice Mitchell had expected. He knew that sound, the strange tingle in the words. “Just don’t scream. Don’t make it worse.”  
“Will it hurt?”  
“Yes, but not for long.” He was still using the Voice. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll make it quick.”  
She closed her eyes and conceded to the inevitable.

Mitchell closed his eyes when he heard the hiss that told him Anders had shifted. He also could hear the strained gasp of the whore who realised that the last thing she would ever see were the eyes of a monster.   
Then he smelled the blood. He involuntarily took a step back, towards Anders and his prey.

He could hear the low growls that signalled Anders feeding, and his stomach turned, but his cock hardened as well. Feeding and sex were inextricably linked for vampires, and he knew they both would be a mess tomorrow. 

The tears were back as he listened to Anders feed, but he managed to get himself back under control by the time he could hear him get up. Only then did he turn around, and was a little surprised by the way Anders looked. He was composed, and there wasn’t a single stray drop of blood on his face or collar. Anders was, apparently, a very neat feeder. And to be honest, Mitchell would have been more surprised if that hadn’t been the case.

His eyes were still black when he stepped beside Mitchell.

“You okay, babe?”  
Anders nodded silently.  
“Home?”  
Anders nodded again and his eyes went back to normal. 

_Every whisper_   
_Of every waking hour_   
_I'm choosing my confessions_   
_Trying to keep an eye on you_   
_Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool, fool_   
_Oh no, I've said too much_   
_I set it up_


	4. November Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [November Rain](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SbUC-UaAxE)

_When I look into your eyes_  
_I can see a love restrained_  
_But darlin' when I hold you_  
_Don't you know I feel the same_

When they came home that night the first thing Anders did was take a shower. And after that, when he emerged from the bathroom still naked and with moist hair, he pushed Mitchell into the bedroom. There was a wild, hungry look in his eyes, even without the obsidian blackness, but there was also fear. Mitchell knew what he was feeling. He knew.

He let himself be pushed onto the bed. He helped Anders with tearing the clothes off his body. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the feral lust of the newly turned. 

If Anders noticed his tears, he didn’t show. 

Anders refused to let Mitchell hold him, he curled up facing the wall and Mitchell remained on his back, watching the ceiling and the lamp that blurred despite the countless times he blinked his tears away. 

After Anders had fallen asleep, Mitchell crawled silently out of the bed and headed for the kitchen. Not that alcohol had a profound effect on him, but he needed _something_. But it wasn’t anything that alcohol could offer, and despite knowing it all too well, Mitchell settled down with a bottle of ice cold vodka on the sofa. 

He felt colder and less alive. It was at that moment that he realised how much Anders had given him of his humanity back. Mitchell had believed it had been Bragi, the powers of the god that spread over him like a blanket. But he had been mistaken.

The god was still there, but the warmth was gone. It had never been the god. It had been Anders himself who had made him feel alive again. Had made him feel human again. They had both known, but unwilling to admit, that all this was more than just sex. But only now did Mitchell realise how deep their connection had been. Love? Maybe. Maybe it had been love that had warmed his soul again. But the warmth was gone. There could be no warmth given from one empty heart to the other. 

The realisation sliced into his soul like a knife. Mitchell slowly put the bottle down onto the table and crumpled into a heap as he went utterly to pieces. He could have had everything. And it had been taken from him. Just like every time before. Partly because of others, and partly because of his own fault. His own failure.

He should have let Anders go instead of turning him into the same kind of monster that he himself was. Maybe then the warmth would have stayed, at least for a while. He could have mourned him and move on. He had known all along that he would eventually lose him, if only to human mortality.

And now he had destroyed everything that had ever been good between them. He had destroyed the man he loved. 

He didn’t deserve him anymore. Him, or anything else that was good. Everything he touched turned into shit. Every good thing turned bad. Rotten to the core as he was, he only spread the disease. And now he had destroyed another soul and condemned to a fate no human mind could ever imagine.

The tears didn’t stop. And neither did the pain, the guilt, the regret and the hunger for something he would never taste again.

* * *

_'Cause nothin' lasts forever_  
_And we both know hearts can change_  
_And it's hard to hold a candle_  
_In the cold November rain_

Anders woke up in an empty bed, but wasn’t really surprised about it. He had been unable to handle himself and his feelings last night. The only thing he hadn’t been able to handle had been the terrible hunger that blood hadn’t been able to slake. 

Sex with Mitchell had always been spectacular. Last night it had felt like a pure necessity. 

Anders sat up with a groan and looked around. He needed another set of bed sheets. 

“Fuck.”

He took another shower, but only when he came into the kitchen to make himself a coffee did he realise the flat was empty. 

There was a sheet of paper lying on the kitchen counter. Anders’s hands began to tremble as he picked it up.

_Anders_  
_My beloved Anders_

_Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? What we were to each other. You loved me. I loved you. And I destroyed everything. I poisoned everything. I destroyed you and your soul and condemned you to a fate worse than death. I should have known better. I was selfish to try and keep you. Because at the time I gave you my blood you had already left your pain behind. I dragged you back. And now I am faced with the horror of what I have done._  
_Forgive me for being so selfish. Forgive me for having done this to you. But I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. I don’t deserve anything._  
_And least of all I deserve you._  
_I know you can’t love me anymore now, and how could it be otherwise?_  
_I won’t ask for forgiveness, because I don’t deserve it._  
_I’m sorry. I am so sorry my love._  
_You will never have to look at me again._

_Mitchell_

Anders lowered the paper and put it down on the counter as if it was a dangerous explosive. 

“Fucks’ sake, Mitch...” He whispered hoarsely. “Mitch, you can’t do that...”

Within moments, Anders had grabbed his phone and dialled Mitchell’s number. The phone rang from the bedroom where Mitchell had put it onto the nightstand the night before. 

“Fuck!”

Anders slammed the phone down so hard the screen cracked. He didn’t care.

“Fuck you, John Mitchell! How could you do that to me?” Anders ran both hands through his hair, trying to suppress his panic. “How could you do that to me and then leave me? How the fuck am I supposed to figure this shit out now?”

He began pacing back and forth, tearing at his hair and with his vision flashing between monochrome and normal. 

_We've been through this such a long long time_  
_Just tryin' to kill the pain_

_But lovers always come and lovers always go_  
_And no one's really sure who's lettin' go today_  
_Walking away_

“How could you do this to me!” He screamed into the empty room. “How could you fucking do this to me you asshole! How could you do this to me and then just fuck off and leave me alone in this shit!!”

He had reached the table and slammed both fists down. The glass shattered into a million shards.

Anders froze, stared at the destruction and slowly backed away. 

Anders looked slowly down at his bleeding hands, his vision flashing to black and white, the bright crimson of blood was the only colour like this. Blood on his hands, dripping down his fingers. He had blood on his hands, both literally and figuratively. And now he had to deal with all of this alone.

“Fuck you, John Mitchell,” he whispered hoarsely. “Now you’re right, you dick. I never want to see you again.”

* * *

After another shower Anders felt ready to face the world again, even if that world would never be the same again. But fuck, there were apparently a lot of vampires leading an almost normal life, there was no reason he couldn’t, as well. 

_If we could take the time_  
_To lay it on the line_  
_I could rest my head_  
_Just knowin' that you were mine_  
_All mine_  
_So if you want to love me_  
_Then darlin' don't refrain_  
_Or I'll just end up walkin'_  
_In the cold November rain_

The door to the office was locked, which was odd. Dawn, always the very essence of duty, should have been there at least for an hour now. 

With a dark feeling of dread rising up in him, Anders unlocked the door. 

He spotted it immediately, the large brown envelope on his desk. Opening it he read his name in Dawn’s handwriting. 

It was her notice. 

There wasn’t a note, no letter, nothing. Not even a fucking post-it. Just his name on the envelope. And her signature on the piece of paper telling him Dawn had quit her job with immediate effect. Anders put the letter down and sank into his chair. 

Within just three days he had lost everything. His lover, his brothers and Dawn, the one person who was the closest thing to a friend he had ever had. And not to mention, he had also lost his life. And his humanity.

Burying his face in his hands Anders fought for composure for a moment, and he managed to not shatter another table. How long he remained there curled up into himself he had no idea, but at one point he felt the helpless rage and despair ebb off again. 

He left the office and locked the door.

* * *

Adjusting his tie one more time Anders hefted the bouquet of flowers and pressed the doorbell. He tried to smile when he could hear Dawn approach, but he knew it was moot point.

Dawn opened the door and screamed. The door slammed into Anders’s face so hard and fast he felt a puff of air on his face.

_I know it's hard to keep an open heart_  
_When even friends seem out to harm you_  
_But if you could heal a broken heart_  
_Wouldn't time be out to charm you_

“Dawn!” He knocked at the door. “Dawn please! Please, I gotta talk to you! I swear I’m not here to hurt you! I could never hurt you, I swear!”

He was just about to turn away, shoulders drooping, when he heard the key in the lock. Anders turned around again, but instead of Dawn it was Ty standing in the doorframe.

“What do you want?”  
“Talk to Dawn.”  
“She doesn’t want to talk to you. I thought that was fairly obvious.”

“Ty...” Anders began and adjusted his tie again.” Ty, I swear... I swear I won’t harm or hurt any of you! I swear I will never...”  
“Be after our blood?” Ty crossed his arms and took a step back. 

Anders took a step forward, but he was unable to take more than one. 

“Not one step further,” Ty said and Anders could feel the air around him cool. Ty’s breath fogged. His own didn’t.  
“I can’t,” Anders replied in a low voice. “I can’t enter your house unless you invite me in.”  
“Good.” Ty’s voice was dark. “At least Dawn can feel safe here.”  
“Ty for fuck’s sake what do you think I’ll do? Abduct her into my spooky castle and chain her to the wall in the highest tower?”  
“I don’t know,” Ty replied tonelessly. “But I won’t take any chances.”  
“Ty I swear I’m not after blood!”

Ty almost laughed. It was a lifeless sound, however. 

“You’re not after blood? Anders, are you serious?”  
“Ty, I swear...”  
“You swear?” Ty crossed his arms. “No blood?”  
“Mitchell was a dry vampire!”  
“Mitchell had more than a hundred years of practise!”  
“Ty...”  
“Anders.” Ty leaned the slightest bit forward. “Tell me you did not drink any blood since you became... this.”

Anders couldn’t reply.

“Tell me, Anders. Look into my eyes and tell me you haven’t killed someone yet.”

The lump in his throat was as hard as a rock. 

“I thought so.” Ty’s voice was cold as ice. “I am not sure what you think you are. What you think you could be. You’re a monster, Anders. A murderer. And you’re sure as fuck not my brother anymore.”

With that, Ty closed the door and Anders heard the key being turned in the lock again. 

After a long moment of staring at the door with a stony face, Anders gently placed the flowers down even though he knew they would end up in a bin. He turned away with heavy steps and headed for his car again. Once he had sat down he rested his head on the wheel and couldn’t move for a very long time. 

He called Axl, but he didn’t answer and the call was cancelled after the third ring. He called Mike, with the same result. 

In the end, he drove to Mike’s bar, but he couldn’t enter there, either. It was a public house, but apparently he still had to be invited in. He knocked on the door.

“The fuck do you want,” Mike said. He was holding a cross.

Looking at it felt like looking directly into the sun. It hurt his eyes and his head, and he had to look away. 

“Mikkel, there’s no need for that.”  
“Fuck off. Just fuck off.”  
“Mikkel, I need your help! Please! Mitchell has left, he just fucked off on me, and I can’t... please! Can you find him for me?”

Mike lowered the cross so Anders could look at him again. Anders adjusted his tie and swallowed hard.

“Fuck off,” Mike said calmly and closed the door again.

The pain, the despair, the feeling of betrayal, it all faded into numbness on his way back home. 

“Fuck you,” he muttered as he stared at the note on the counter. “I hope you burn in hell...” And then he remembered what Mitchell told him. And realised that he had meant in his note, talking a fate worse than death. 

His heart stopped beating. It didn’t make a difference.

Nothing made a difference any more.

Anders sank onto the sofa and called Ty. He didn’t answer, but he didn’t cancel the call so Anders could leave him a message.

“Ty...” he said hoarsely, hardly able to recognise his own words. “I know... you said I’m not your brother anymore. But please... I know I was... once. If that ever meant anything to you... please call me. Please, Ty, I beg you.”

He ended the call and stared at his phone, the cracked screen a mirror to his own, shattered self. 

It was an hour later, an hour in which Anders had just sat there staring at the phone with a heart that didn’t beat, not even breathing, when Ty called him back.

“Ty...”  
_“What is it you want?”_

Anders swallowed hard.

“You were right. I am a monster. I am a murderer. And God... I don’t want to be like this. Can...” He broke off with what almost a sob. His soul went cold with fear. “Please, Ty... can you get the others to meet me in Norsewood Forest?”  
_“What the fuck for?”_  
“I can’t do this alone,” Anders whispered tonelessly. “Please...”  
_“Can’t do what?”_  
“End it,” Anders replied and closed his eyes. 

_And when your fears subside_  
_And shadows still remain_  
_I know that you can love me_  
_When there's no one left to blame_  
_So never mind the darkness_  
_We still can find a way_  
_'Cause nothin' lasts forever_  
_Even cold November rain_


	5. Forever Young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Forever young](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t1TcDHrkQYg)

_Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while_  
_Heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies_  
_Hoping for the best but expecting the worst_  
_Are you gonna drop the bomb or not?_

_Let us die young or let us live forever_  
_We don't have the power but we never say never_  
_Sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip_  
_The music's for the sad men_

Anders had his eyes closed, feeling the wind on his face dry his tears. They were immediately replaced by new ones. 

The memories were the worst part now. He saw Mitchell’s eyes, sparkling with mischief. The dark hazel turning into amber with joy, into seasoned wood with lust, and into obsidian with anger. 

He had known, they both had known, that it couldn’t last forever. If nothing else, Anders would have aged, withered and died. There had never been a forever. 

Apart for a short moment in time. But what would that forever have been like? Two lost souls clinging to each other, trying to keep each other from crumbling into dust. From surrendering to the darkness within. 

It had been lust, it had been sex. It had been warm affection. It might have been love. None of that mattered anymore.

_Can you imagine when this race is won_  
_Turn our golden faces into the sun_  
_Praising our leaders, we're getting in tune_  
_The music's played by the, the mad men_

Anders had always been afraid of death. He didn’t want to die. He knew there was no way around it, and occasionally, at night and alone in his bed, the thought that he would die had thrown him into a panic attack and reduced him into a gasping bundle of terror. 

He thought he had known terror, back then. He had had no idea. 

For a short moment in time, he had believed life would continue, somehow. That death was only a memory now. He had died already, after all. No one could die twice. He had been rather naive. 

The thought of Mitchell, John Mitchell, the man he had loved, remaining like he had always been, in eternal youth and beauty, like an insect in amber, conserved and safe from time, and him, Anders Johnson, withering and wrinkled and old, had always terrified him. And for a moment, he had believed that they owned forever. 

_Forever young, I want to be forever young_  
_Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever?_  
_Forever young, I want to be forever young_  
_Do you really want to live forever? Forever young_

Anders would have been prone to believe that the thought of immortality would be pleasant. Never having to die. Forever young and handsome. 

But the price for immortality is to live forever. Watch everyone you ever cared for wither and die. Be forced to uproot yourself again and again and again, invent yourself new again and again and again, always in the midst of life and yet forced to the very edge with no right to be a part of it anymore.

He had never wanted to die. And now he discovered he didn’t want to live forever.

He was staring at the forest floor, standing still, listening to his heart that wasn’t beating. Not breathing. Not needing to breathe. He forced himself to, but it was only an illusion. 

When he finally heard the engine of a car, he felt equal parts terror and relief. 

One by one, his brothers left the car. Olaf had joined them, and all four of them gave him distrustful, suspicious looks. Anders could only shake his head. 

“What do you want?” Mike asked, crossing his arms.  
“Didn’t Ty tell you?”

Mike and Ty exchanged a glance. 

“None of us are sure you really mean it. End it? Seriously?”

Anders looked at his brothers. 

Mike, his older brother, who had taught him to ride a bike. Who had abandoned him to the violence of their father and the indifference of their mother.  
Ty, his younger brother, whom Anders had taught to ride a bike. Whom he had helped with his homework. Helped him get over his first broken heart.  
Axl, his baby brother, whose diapers he had changed, had been forced to as their mother couldn’t be bothered half of the time. He had helped him learn to walk. 

He would watch them die. 

He saw Mike dry up like an old leave before his inner eyes, his hair whitening, his skin wrinkling, shrinking, cracking. All that remained was a stone with his name on.  
He saw Ty’s hair go grey, then white. He saw a stone with his name on.  
He saw Axl with a girl, get married, have kids. He saw him smile. Saw his hair turn gray. Hold his grandchildren. He saw a stone with his name on.

_Some are like water, some are like the heat_  
_Some are a melody and some are the beat_  
_Sooner or later, they all will be gone_  
_Why don't they stay young?_

_It's so hard to get old without a cause_  
_I don't want to perish like a fading horse_  
_Youth's like diamonds in the sun_  
_And diamonds are forever_

He saw himself. Staying forever young, forever untouched by time and age, like an insect in amber. 

But as opposed to the insect in amber, he did not have any peace. He would never have any peace. 

“I can’t do this,” Anders finally whispered, meeting Mike’s eyes. “Ty was right. I am a monster. I am a murderer. I killed a woman for blood. An old whore, and I probably did her a favour, but I killed her. I drank her blood. And I enjoyed it. I am a monster, Mike. And a murderer.”

Mike slowly crossed his arms and from the corners of his eyes, Anders could see Ty and Axl slowly back away.

“I can’t do this,” Anders said again, his voice breaking. He couldn’t. But being afraid had been nothing compared to the terror he felt now at what lay ahead.  
“And why are we here?”  
“You gotta help me.” Everything inside him was recoiling in fear. “I can’t do it alone.”  
“Can’t do what alone?” Mike asked, voice low.  
“End it,” Anders replied in a hoarse, dry whisper.

They silently stared at each other.

“I tried,” Anders continued, his voice brittle like old leaves. “I can’t. I can’t do it.”  
“And what do you want me to do?” 

Mike uncrossed his arms again as Anders reached inside his jacket. He was still meeting his brother’s eyes as he held out the stake to him. He had shattered the door of his wardrobe and ruined his best kitchen knife to make it. Couldn’t have cared less.

“You want me to kill you?”  
Anders chuckled without mirth. “Mikkel, I’m already dead. I just want this to be over.”  
“And then?” 

Anders held out and the stake, but Mike made no move to take it. 

“Then?” Anders shook his head and the tears were back. “Then it’ll be over. I can’t go on like this. Mitchell was right. There are things worse than death. Watching everyone die. Having to fight the monster inside. Forever. And one day it will end anyway. And then... it will be over. I’ll be gone.”  
“Gone.” Mike took a deep breath.

Anders met his eyes again, tears trickling down his cheeks. “I lost my soul, Mike. I lost it. It’s gone. Once it is over, I’m gone. Mikkel... I’m terrified. I don’t want to be gone. I don’t just want to end. There’s no afterlife, Mike. Not for me. Once this is over, I’m gone. End. Nothing left. Nothing.”  
Now Mike had to swallow. “But...”  
“But it will happen anyway,” Anders rasped. “If it happens now or in eight hundred years, it will still be the same. I will be gone. But if it happens now...” He couldn’t suppress a sob. “If it happens now, I won’t become.... more of a monster than I already am. I killed once, Mike. I can’t stand the thought of doing it again. And again. How many people, Mike? How many lives will I end? Only for me to end anyway?”

_So many adventures couldn't happen today_  
_So many songs we forgot to play_  
_So many dreams swinging out of the blue_  
_We let them come true_

Mike finally reached out and closed his fingers around the stake. Anders couldn’t suppress a sob of despair. He was terrified. He had never been so terrified. Around him, he felt the presence of his brothers, could hear their heartbeat, every single one of them. These hearts would fail one day. And it might even be Anders himself who ended the heartbeat. The thought was unbearable.

“I don’t want to die, Mikkel. I’m fucking terrified. I’ve never been so terrified. But I can’t... I can’t be this. I can’t. And it will happen. Better for it to happen now.” His voice broke on the last word. 

Mike took another deep breath and Anders lowered his head. Tears dripping down his chin he shrugged off his jacket and tore his shirt apart. Buttons fell. Anders didn’t care. His chest bared he looked at his brother again.

“Please, Mike. Don’t... please end it. I can’t do it myself, I tried.”  
“Anders...” Mike swallowed. “I can’t...”  
“Mikkel.” Anders shook his head, no end to his tears, no bottom to his terror. “Please do it now. You’re doing the world a favour. You’re doing me a favour. I don’t have to be terrified anymore...”

Mike took a deep breath and hefted the stake in his hand. 

“Bye,” Anders whispered and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry I was such a failure.”

Mike’s breaths were shaking. His hand was trembling.

“Mike, I beg you, do it now!”

Mike took another deep, shaky breath. “Bye, Andy,” he whispered and rammed the stake into Anders’s chest with a sound that was somewhere between a sob and a growl.

Anders’s eyes flew open with a hoarse gasp as he stared at his brother, his eyes widening in nameless, bottomless terror. They flashed to black as his skin turned to grey.

_Forever young, I want to be forever young_  
_Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever?_  
_Forever young, I want to be forever young_  
_Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever?_

Anders didn’t hear the desperate sob of his youngest brother anymore. His clothes crumpled into an empty heap, all that remained a few flakes of grey ash drifting in the wind. 

Moments later, a nimbus of strange colours rose from the ashes and hovered in the air for a moment. The essence of Bragi, about to ascend back into the void where he would wait for his next incarnation. 

“Look.” Olaf’s voice was hardly audible. 

In the centre of the nimbus of light, a small, golden orb appeared. It was no larger than a pebble. The coloured light of Bragi’s essence enveloped it before both of them vanished.

“What was that?” Axl asked in a voice as meek and scared as a little child’s.

“That was the essence of Bragi,” Olaf replied, his voice trembling. “Seems like he cared more about Anders than we thought...”

Ty stared at the spot where the two lights had vanished.

“Bye, Andy,” he whispered. “Rest in peace, brother.”

_Forever young, I want to be forever young_  
_Do you really want to live forever?_


End file.
